Hero
by Auroraas
Summary: A gypsy and her mutt, two unlikely candidates for saviors, start from nothing and rise to...? Learning the true meaning of love and loss, little Sparrow will realize that perfection is hard to come by. Sparrow/Alex, Hammer/OC, Reaver/OC.
1. Rose

**Title: **Hero

**Disclaimer: **Any recognizable characters (c) Lionhead. In other words, all the characters that aren't OCs in this don't belong to me, and never will. ;)

**Pairings: **FemSparrow/Alex, Hammer/OC, Reaver/OC, slight FemSparrow/Reaver.

**Rating: M **(for language, violence, and sexual themes)

**A/N: **This is basically a retelling of Fable II in its entirety... yes, I am insane. :P

**Chapter 1**

**Rose**

The girl woke to familiar hunger pangs and the smell of filth surrounding her. She blinked her eyes open and looked around their shack; Sparrow was sleeping. Now was the perfect time to go for a short walk to the 'market'.

It was nothing like Bowerstone's actual marketplace - it was simply a crude recreation of it. Ever since Nicky The Nickname and his gang had taken over this place, forcing Lord Lucien to quarantine it, the businesspeople of Old Town had been relying simply on memory and the small rations that Derek managed to get from the few guards who would even venture near this place to make it seem more genuine.

_They haven't done a very good job_, Rose thought to herself, stroking her little sister's soft hair and rising slowly to her knees, stretching for a moment.

She mentally went through her shopping list, counting out how many gold pieces it would take to buy their staples. Bread costed one gold if Nathaniel was feeling kind today. Meat sold for two, but that depended heavily on Rebecca's income this week. If there had not been many customers, it would cost three. Milk and fruit were out of the question.

She had only four gold left. She wanted to make it last.

"'Ello there_ Rosie_."

The thirteen year old stopped for a moment, closing her eyes and willing him to go away.

Apparently it didn't work.

His breath, tinged with the stench of alcohol, was hot in her ear.

"'Ow are ya t'day doll?" Arfur asked, planting his hand firmly on her waist and let his other one wander.

"Leave me alone, you _bum_." she hissed, jerked herself out of his grasp and walked faster.

"Nicky gave me some more meat than normal t'day," he yelled after her. "Sparrow's lookin' awful _thin_ these days, ain't she?"

Angry tears burned down her face as Rose started to sprint down the alley, breaths coming in shallow pants.

"I'll be here, doll!"

xx

Sparrow huddled closer to the fire, nibbling on her bread, as though it would last longer that way. Rose watched her, worried as ever. She did look thinner.

Rose would forego her bread today, she decided. Sparrow needed it more than she did.

"'ere you are, honey." she said, kissing her sister's forehead and handing her the pathetically tiny loaf.

"But Rose... you didn't eat." Sparrow said, turning towards her, eyes wide with confusion.

"I know. But you're growin', see? More than I am..." she swallowed heavily. _That isn't entirely true_, she reasoned with herself. "You need it. I'll be fine."

Sparrow shook her head in that usually adorable but at this moment just plain infuriating way, handed her back the bread and tilted her head upwards. "No, Rosie. I want you to have it." she said with a small smile.

Rose broke it in half. "We'll share."

This seemed to satisfy the six year old, as she took it gratefully.

Finishing her bread in a few gulps, Rose's eyes pricked with tears as she realized just how desperate they had become. She looked away for a moment, turning back suddenly as she heard a distressed call coming from her sister.

The girl recoiled as she saw Sparrow attempting to wipe bird guano from her hair.

"Aww, yuck!" she exclaimed, laughing a bit. "Well, I hear that's lucky," Rose began, holding her sister's head still and wiping the defecation off of Sparrow's head. Smiling, the older girl stood back, still giggling a bit to herself.

"Like findin' a four leaf clover. Although I think I would'a preferred the clover." winking at her, she turned towards her favorite landmark.

"Ah, look little Sparrow..." she whispered in wonder. "Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow."

Still staring at the castle, she let her mind wander. "Bet Lord Lucien's havin' roast duck this time of year, yeah? Must be lonely, though, since 'is wife and 'is little girl died. In that big castle, all by himself?"

Rose sighed. "If only we could live there."

Suddenly, a loud commotion rose from the town center.

"What is goin' on over there? Come with me, sis."

xx

The music box was the only thing on Rose's mind, Sparrow could tell. After that odd gypsy lady said that it would take them to the Castle, it had been killing her.

So Sparrow helped, because she wanted to get out of Old Town as badly as her sister.

They gave Derek arrest warrants, they posed for a picture, they rescued a doggie, and they helped the town drunk out, although his preferred career of tax and pensions didn't sound a good time at all. They helped two lovers run away together, which made the younger sister sigh at and the older sister swoon. Sparrow even shot some beetles; it would have been really fun, if Arfur hadn't been shouting at her from the window.

They made a wish.

It didn't work.

Rose, dejected, stamped towards their pathetic shack, ridiculing the whole idea of magic.

In the middle of the night, however, a guard came to their door, inviting them to the Lord's castle. They accepted, and then they began riding towards the castle in a carriage. Boom, boom, boom went the horse's hooves. Sparrow rested her tiny head against her sister's shoulder, and looked up at the moon.

It looked... scary.

The castle did too.

But Sparrow hadn't seen this light in her big sister's eyes in a while, so she kept quiet.

She trusted Rose. Rosie knew what she was doing.

If only that were as reassuring as she'd hoped.


	2. Dashed Hope

Sparrow gazed up in wonder at the man standing before her. He had a sort of elegant way about him that made him look inviting and dangerous at the same time.

She smiled at him, but hid her head bashfully when she caught him smiling back at her.

"Children," he began. "It has come to my attention that you have some sort of magic box. May I see it?"

Lord Lucien said this all in a very clipped and upper class manner - nothing like... Arfur's accent, for example. He enunciated every syllable, whereas most residents of Old Town spoke with a twang. Next to Lucien, they may as well have been speaking with cotton in their mouths.

Sparrow looked at her sister, awaiting her response patiently. She didn't know why, but she wanted Rose to do the talking. She was better at it, plus, she didn't want to speak to this strange man. He scared her.

"It... vanished, m'lord. We were windin' it up, and we made a wish, and then it started to glow and... it disappeared!"

The man wasted no time in asking questions.

"After you used it?"

Rose ducked her head shyly. "Yes, m'lord. The man who sold it to us said it was magic."

"The box is of no interest to me. What is remarkable is that you were able to use it. What was your wish?"

Rose giggled a little, and blushed.

"Well, speak up. What did you wish for?"

Her sister got a dreamy look in her eyes. "To live in a castle... like this one!"

Lord Lucien chuckled. "Perhaps that could be arranged."

Sparrow looked up in surprise. Had the box really worked?

"I am working to rebuil---" he stopped himself. "I am working on something wonderful, for which I need individuals with... particular talents. Let us see if you possess them. Would you kindly stand in the circle, please?"

Sparrow sucked in a breath, shakily. "Rose..." she started, biting her lip. "I don't want to..."

"I promise, it won't hurt you." Lucien said, looking at her warmly. It didn't reassure her greatly, but when Rose began to make her way towards the circle, Sparrow followed, blindly.

As soon as she placed her foot, gingerly, in the middle, it began to glow a bright blue.

"What's that light?" Rose asked.

Sparrow's bottom lip started to quiver. "Rose, Rosie, I don't want to be here. Can we go home? Please?"

"Not now," she said, hushing her. "This is our new home."

"No," Sparrow protested defiantly. "NO!"

Lucien appeared to ignore the two, muttering something about their blood, and being heroes.

"Heroes?" Rose asked. "You mean like in the old stories?"

He reached forward and touched the circle, suddenly recoiling as it began to turn red.

"What are you?" he whispered.

He ran over to his desk, sorting through something while muttering.

Rose began to panic, her breath stopping when the man pulled out a pistol. Sparrow, however, was frozen. In fear, maybe, or in morbid anticipation, but she could not look away.

"One of you is the fourth."

The rest was a blur, as Rose screamed, "_NO_!" and fell after a quick bang.

Suddenly able to move, Sparrow cried out for her sister, attempting to clamber over to her, but stopped when the crazed nobleman reloaded the gun.

"I can't allow you to live either..." Lucien started, watching Sparrow begin to sob. As her large blue eyes looked up at him, pitifully, something broke in him, and his voice hitched. "I'm sorry."

She felt a sharp pain below her left shoulder, and then nothing.

Peace, at last.

_Death is not your destiny today, little Sparrow._

xx

About a day later, the Bower Lake gypsies were very confused. An odd hooded woman entered the camp, calling herself Theresa. She carried a little girl on her shoulder, who had grave injuries. Her dirty clothing was soaked in blood, her back hunched, suggesting spinal damage. She was not long for this world, they thought, sadly.

Theresa asked, politely, and almost eerily calmly, to buy a caravan in the camp, saying that she needed it or the child would die.

They accepted, hesitantly at first. When the girl let out a soft whimper, though, their hearts melted. The fellow children began to visit her every day, while their parents came at night, giving Theresa health potions, food, anything she asked for.

Soon enough, word was out that the little girl was up and about. Despite her weak disapproval, they carefully replaced her tattered clothing with their own, brushed out her long hair, put it up in a high ponytail like their girls. They dressed her in a skirt and top typical of gypsy children, and asked her name, weak as she was.

"Sparrow," she said.

They thought it was an odd name, but they simply shrugged and said to each other that some of the gypsies that had lived there in the past had had stranger names.

Theresa left for Oakfield soon after Sparrow woke, saying nothing other than 'the next card is about to fall into its place'.

She's a strange one, they thought.


	3. Rebellious Nature

Sparrow smiled at Theresa from her stationary place in her makeshift bed as the older woman walked into the caravan, bringing an extra blanket with her.

"I believed you to be cold." she said, awkwardly.

"Thank you, ma'am." the little girl replied, grinning. As soon as the woman turned, though, her smile disappeared. Sparrow was confused; Theresa would not tell her anything.

The only thing the gypsy had told her was her name. And that she had suffered severe head trauma.

"Theresa?" she almost whispered.

The hooded woman turned again, stiffly. Of course, Theresa was always like that; awkward around her. Like she had not been around children in a long time.

The woman walked towards her, and placed her hand gently on the girl's forehead. "Rest, child."

"No." she objected, attempting to sit upright. "What's happened? Why can I not remember anything?"

"I've told you that, already, little Sparrow."

_Ah, look little little Sparrow... Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow._

Sparrow closed her eyes for a moment.

"Castle Fairfax...?" she asked Theresa.

The woman cast a look of sympathy towards her. "I can restore your memories, if you would like."

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

"You will not like what I have to show you, child." Not at all.

Theresa closeed her eyes. Would she really do this? Bombard this little girl's memory with brutal images, instill in her a feeling of revenge, simply to get what she wanted?

She opened her eyes.

Yes.

She would.

Theresa focused, remembering what Palgan had taught her, and her sightless, white eyes turned completely blue.

The girl looked frightened, but Theresa reached forward again. She touched Sparrow's forehead for a second time, this time repairing nerve endings and brain tissues, damaged in the child's fall.

A tear trickled down the girl's face as she remembered.

xx

_Nine Years Later_

The sound of melodious laughter flowed through the air, scattering animals left and right, as the group of friends advanced towards the gypsy camp.

"Nah, you didn't Sparrow!" a girl's voice, slightly slurred, sounded.

"I _did_." another voice said, this one's accent softer. More refined, regal sounding and perhaps even a bit reminiscent of Fairfax Gardens.

"No, no, _no_!" a male voice yelled, collapsing into a fit of laughter at the end. "He makes a move on her, touches her right there," he chuckled, pointing. "and she goes up to 'im..."

Sparrow blushed, ducking her head in embarrassment.

"Awwwww," a different female voice said, this one belonging to an older girl named Kristelle, "She's shy!"

The two males laughed, a deep, booming sound, and slapped each other on the back. They knew that this was usually not the case at all; one only had to look at Sparrow's clothing to know that. She wore a tight red top that dipped low in the front, not leaving much to the imagination. Coupled with this was an equally tight red skirt, complementing her figure perfectly. Her long brown hair was loose, but curled.

All in all, she was the opposite of 'shy'.

One of the men, named Will, who had been speaking before, started again. "She goes up to 'im, and she kicks 'im right in the-"

"_Shush_!" Sparrow hissed.

Kristelle and Evelyne, the two girls, walked up to their friend, twirling locks of her long brown hair around their fingers.

"Oh, lighten up, lil' Sparrow!" they giggled.

Sparrow quickly joined in the giggle fest, stumbling into the camp as Jake, the other boy in the group, pushed her playfully.

_Shit_, Sparrow thought, suddenly, _Theresa_

"Wait, wait," the to-be hero whispered. "Theresa. I gotta get home, now... sorry!" she said, bit her lip and hugged the two girls, and waved to the boys, before sprinting to the other side of camp as fast as humanly possible.

She skidded to a stop in front of her caravan, walking in slowly. Seeing only the back of her guardian's hood, she held her breath in anticipation.

Nothing happened. Theresa said nothing.

"I didn't do anything this time, I swear." she said in a hurry, words coming out of her mouth in a torrent.

"You have a tattoo."

Sparrow rolled her eyes. Of course she knew.

"It's just a little ink. Everyone has one."

"I specifically forbade you to get one, did I not?" the fortune teller stated, calm as always.

"It's symbolic," Sparrow defended. "I-"

Theresa shook her head.

"This is not acceptable."

"Yes, it _is_. I am fifteen years old. I can do what I want."

"No."

"I spend all day training with you! All day, _every_ day! Am I not allowed just one freedom?"

"What was the Hero of Oakvale's first name?"

Sparrow opened her mouth, and then closed it. She had not expected this.

"Your _brother's_ name was Matthew the Sabre. Why?"

"You remind me so much of him." she smiled, a bit sadly.

Sparrow knew immediately that she had been forgiven.

"Get to bed, little Sparrow. You have a long day of training ahead of you tomorrow."

Sparrow turned.

"And don't ever wear that ridiculously tight top again. It looks like you are trying to fit in with the whores in Bloodstone, child."

The brunette giggled, reaching for her comb, and stuck her tongue out playfully at Theresa.

"Whatever you say, your majesty."

Theresa simply sat there, unresponsive to her teasing, as always.

When the teen was fast asleep, however, she cracked a smile.


	4. Preparation

"Take this sword." Theresa stated, patiently holding the weapon out to the girl in front of her.

Sparrow eagerly reached forward, winking at Bandit, who she knew Theresa was nervous of. He was hiding behind the blind woman, crouched down and wagging his tail in anticipation of their latest shenanigan.

Sparrow quickly grabbed the katana, and whistled, laughing as her dog jumped out from the bushes and practically tackled Theresa to the ground.

"Good one, boy!" she giggled, running over to her faithful companion and pet him as he licked her face.

"Sparrow. Now is not the time for your... _pranks_." the woman said, getting to her feet swiftly and brushing off her robes. She crossed her hands tightly in front of her, looking at the brown haired girl in hysterics with something resembling scorn.

The girl arched her eyebrow, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. She cleared her throat, and raised her her gaze to meet Theresa's, trying desperately to look serious.

"Do you remember the night in Lucien's study?"

Sparrow's smile disappeared instantly. _No, wait! Don't! No! Bam, I'm sorry, bang, crash through the window._

She simply bit her lip and looked down, willing her eyes to stop filling with tears. She had always been a crier.

"You must begin more vigorous training than you have been used to, starting today. We have less time then I had hoped..." the seeress trailed off, shaking her head. "You must leave on your journey next year."

Sparrow looked up, inhaling sharply. "I thought... I thought I was going to leave when I was eighteen?"

"No. I am sorry, Hero, but you have to stop him soon. If you do not, Albion will be destroyed, along with all the people living in it."

Hero. Theresa only ever used that name for her when she was deadly serious.

"I won't be ready." Sparrow protested, placing her hands her waist and cocking her hips to the side.

"That is why you will not be spending much time away from your training."

"But... my _friends_!" Sparrow started.

"Do not complain. I thought I had at least instilled _some_ manners in you?"

Sparrow smiled a little at that. "Sorry." she said, bowing her head again.

"Think of Lucien."

At the look of hatred that crossed Sparrow's face, Theresa furrowed her brow.

"Think of your sister, then. Think of Rose."

"Alright... alright." the young girl said, nodding and closed her eyes. She was surprised at her own willingness to resign; she had always been a rebellious child. "I will begin."

"Good." the hooded woman said, her ever-present smile returning. She turned, and began to walk towards the gates of the gypsy camp, motioning for Sparrow to follow.

"Open the gates!" a man's voice yelled. The gates slowly lifted, and the the two women started to move out of the camp.

"Now, I have set up some targets for you to practice on." Theresa continued, walking over the bridge that connected the camp to the world outside at such a fast pace that Sparrow had to jog to keep up with her.

"See how quickly you can bring them down."

The brunette looked around the trailhead, spotting the first few easily. Bandit barked, startling her.

"That is something else we must work on."

"What?" Sparrow said, turning.

"Your fear."

Arching an eyebrow, the girl listened to her mentor.

"You will be confronted with many difficult, challenging, and frightening decisions over the course of your quest. You must not be so easily scared, or..." she trailed off again. "I should have started this _earlier_."

Waiting for a command, Sparrow shifted uncomfortably under Theresa's blank stare.

"Now, go and see how much damage you are able to do to that statue."

The straw figure seemed easy to attack; a few well-executed swings of her sword, and it would be down in no time.

She swung out once with her sword, surprised when she hit rock underneath the scarecrow-looking exterior.

"Things are not always what they seem." Theresa said from behind her.

"How am I supposed to break this? It's solid rock."

"You have my brother's blood... you have a hero's blood. Call upon the wisdom of your ancestors, and you shall be able to damage it."

Sparrow turned, rolling her eyes. Of course she should have expected this sort of answer.

Yet suddenly, she felt... stronger. _How?_

_I am here to help, _a man's voice, deep and powerful, began resounding in her head.

"Who are you?" Sparrow asked aloud, turning her head from side to side, ignoring the strange look that Bandit was giving her.

_You know me, do you not?_

Yes. She did.

"Sabre?" she whispered.

_I give you my strength, little Sparrow, and remind you of your drive. What you are fighting to protect... what you are fighting to avenge._

Before her, faces. Nameless, unknown to her.

_You will know them, in time._

Two little girls, a blonde and a brunette. A little boy, with dark hair and dark eyes. A sandy-haired man, with gorgeous green eyes. He smiled at her. She felt drawn to him, somehow... she reached out to touch him, but he disappeared.

Recoiling, she turned. A woman, muscular, tall, large, a redhead. A man with darker skin than she. Another man with a malicious glint in his eyes.

Her dog appeared.

"Bandit, c'mere boy!" she called, grateful for a familiar face at last. He turned away, though, and ran into the dark. She didn't follow. She was scared. "Bandit, come back!"

Desperate now, Sparrow turned again, squinting at a figure in the distance. It looked like... Rose.

_Rose._

Beloved Rose.

She didn't realize that she was crying.

Her sister's face seemed frightened, though. "_No_!" the young girl screamed.

"Rose?" she asked, approaching her. "What's wrong, sis?"

"Wait!" the girl said, raising her arms up to protect herself. "Don't! No!"

_Bang._

Lucien stood before her, gun still smoking, smiling as Rose's blood pooled at his feet.

Sparrow cried out with anguish, striking him again and again. She pummeled him with her fists, her sword, her feet, anything that would cause damage to his person. She screamed obscenities and words of hatred and just meaningless wails as she hit and kicked him again, again, again, _again_.

He crumpled under her, and she didn't stop. She knew that, at least in this fantasy, he was dead. But as the pool of her sister's blood grew, she struck at his corpse, kicking and kicking, before sinking her sword deep into his chest.

Panting heavily, she watched he vanished. Instead of his desecrated corpse, she saw only a crushed rock in front of her. Her knuckles were raw and bleeding, her feet were probably bruised, but she didn't feel the pain.

Sparrow turned back to Theresa, walking towards her with a blank expression on her face.

Bandit padded up beside her and licked her hand, careful to avoid her bleeding fingers.

"I want him to die." she said, barely above a whisper, and collapsed into her mentor's arms, sobbing quietly.


	5. You Look Good In Red

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry this chapter's so short! Hopefully you won't get _too_ mad at me... please?**

She was late to watch the sunrise this morning. The sky was already pink-ish, and Sparrow could see a hint of blue above that.

Nonetheless, it was beautiful. She was grateful to be able to just relax; she hadn't had the chance to in quite a while. Of course, the only reason she was actually _able_ to be alone today was because it was her sixteenth birthday.

Her birthday.

Even today, _today_, she had been bombarded with brutal images of the decrepit streets of Old Town, their pathetic shack, her sister's brutal death.

Of course, this was actually a good thing. She knew that she had to leave the camp today. She knew that these nightmares would only help her drive to defeat Lucien further.

So she didn't tell anyone about them.

Sighing, she looked towards the camp, biting her lip. She loved everyone here... and she would miss them.

When she saw Theresa walking towards her, she attempted to smile.

"Ah, there you are," the seeress said, pleasantly, a smile upon _her_ face, at least. "And your furry friend, too."

Bandit barked happily, and Sparrow scratched him behind his ears.

"Good morning, Theresa." the brunette smiled, trying to hide her reluctance.

Theresa nodded, smiling back at her.

"As you know, many years ago I promised you I would help you avenge your sister's death. That day has come."

Sparrow looked to the ground, holding back tears at what was about to come.

"Little Sparrow," Theresa said softly, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "You will see these people again. I promise you this."

Sparrow nodded, half believing her mother figure. What if she were to go out on an adventure, or _quest_, as Theresa liked to call them, and... _died_? What if she wasn't able to protect them if someone attacked the camp?

"Today, you will need to leave the safety of this camp and seek out Lucien. The journey will not be easy." the blind gypsy continued, seemingly oblivious to the emotions playing out over her face.

The girl smiled a little at this, wiping at her eyes and turned when her mentor pointed at her caravan.

"I have left some items in your caravan that may prove useful."

"Like what?" Sparrow asked, arching an eyebrow. A birthday present, no doubt. But probably something... Theresa-esque. For her eighth birthday, instead of the doll she had been wanting, she got a health potion. Of course, that had proved useful when she and Kristelle had attempted to backflip off of the highest cliff surrounding Bower Lake...

Shaking her head, the girl returned her attention to the seeress.

"You'll see." Theresa smiled. "Meet me by the gates when you're ready to leave... you may want to bid farewell to your friends. I know they want to see you."

Sparrow nodded, closing her eyes for a moment.

Theresa began to walk away, but stopped suddenly and turned her head slightly. "By the way, happy birthday."

Exhaling out shakily, the girl began to walk slowly past the hooded woman, patting her affectionately on the shoulder. She jogged down the sandy trail, nodding at the friendly tattooist that had just wished her a good birthday. _Damn_, she thought, _these people are too hard to leave. _

She stopped suddenly when she saw Evelyne's familiar dark braids. Avo, this was going to be the hardest thing she had yet done.

"Hey, Ev," the brunette called out, dreading the conversation that was about to take place.

The gypsy rushed up to Sparrow, embracing her with enthusiasm.

"Hey, Spar. I heard a rumor that you were goin' today... is it true?" she inquired, sounding as if she would rather not know.

"Yeah," the brunette said. "Yeah. It's true."

Evelyne closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. "Then I have something for you. The others aren't here; Kristelle's sis got sick. Will and Jake are huntin'. So... I guess I'm talkin'-"

"_Speaking_." Sparrow corrected, winking playfully.

"Alright, Theresa," Evelyne teased. "I guess I'm _speaking_ for everyone."

Her friend held out her hand; a small velvet box rested in her palm. Sparrow reached out and took it gently. Taking a moment to appreciate the softness of the material, she opened quickly it and gasped slightly.

"Will's dad made it. He commissioned it in Bowerstone, but it didn't come through... so he made it here. Pretty good jeweller, yeah?"

Sparrow's eyes were huge. In the box lay a necklace; the pendant had a ruby in the center, gold embellishments surrounding it. It was breathtaking.

"Wow... _wow_. It's... lovely." she managed to say. "I love it. Thank you. Tell Will's dad thank you, too."

"You always did look good in re- oof!" Evelyne began, cut off by Sparrow's embrace.

"Yeah, yeah, love ya too." the gypsy said, patting the brunette on the back.

Sparrow pulled back, an adorable watery smile on her face.

"Hey, kick ass out there, yeah?"

"Yeah." Sparrow said, smiling and kissed her friend on the cheek, turned with a wave, and skipped off towards her caravan.

She was ready for whatever this world could throw at her.


	6. Birth of a Hero

Dripping wet and freezing cold, Sparrow stared, enthralled, down the hallway. Bandit bounced up beside her, and she reached down to pet him quickly. She didn't take her eyes off of the room lying just beyond, though. It seemed... disrespectful.

Beginning to advance towards the lit area in front of her, Sparrow's eyes widened fractionally as she moved farther and farther down the decrepit, yet still somewhat regal looking hallway.

Her hand rested on her brown leather pack at her waist, and she began to trace the outlines of the objects in it. Several new volumes, found in the decaying bookshelves a few rooms back, a health potion, and a few sparse coins were strewn around the bottom of the bag. However, her hand soon found what she was looking for. Her new Guild Seal.

Almost instantly, Theresa's voice filtered through her mind.

_It is time you found out your destiny, little Sparrow,_ the gypsy murmured.

Arching an eyebrow and taking a deep breath, the brunette closed her eyes and stepped into the amazing dome-shaped room.

As she opened them, she was slowly overcome by the subtle beauty of this place; the carvings, obviously done with care, that adorned the walls told the tale of a hero long gone. Faded images of great adventures appeared on them, a young man and woman fighting a giant scorpion, what appeared to be a different man, wearing a mask, with the previous one trying to stop him from torturing an unidentified woman; there was even a carving of the young man hand in hand with his bride.

Smiling, Sparrow realized that this place not only held great beauty, but appeared to hold a great deal of history, both as a place to record it, and a place where many unique events had occurred.

Everything from the simplest decoration to the once-colorful tapestries were stunning. Strangely, the girl felt as though she was once here, in its golden age, of course.

Color and magic surrounded her, and a small man stood in the center. Somehow, though, this man seemed familiar, as though he had... raised Sparrow.

He had a thick white mustache and a shaved head, a tattoo that either stood for the chasm or the Guild Seal on his forehead, a small, round nose, and skin that looked like stretched leather due to his abundance of wrinkles. Sparrow could feel remorse eating away at her, but it was clear these were not her own feelings.

Such a vivid image was far beyond her 'powers' of imagination, though she _was_ quite creative.

_Sometimes, people refer to this particular situation as 'I have a strange man in my head that occasionally shows me visions of his life' _Sabre's voice teased.

Snickering, Sparrow blinked, and was returned abruptly to the current vision of this room, still beautiful in its own strange, in-shambles way.

_This, child, is the Heroes' Guild. It is here that you must accept your destiny, that your blood will awaken._

The brunette advanced quickly up the stairs. She remembered the story; how after Sabre defeated Jack of Blades, Albion was not accepting of Heroes anymore. How the Heroes themselves became self-centered and corrupt, and how the people revolted against them, burned the Guild to the ground, and left the unfortunate souls trapped in the building for dead. But Sabre's wife and children survived, as did a few others who held Heroes' blood.

_Look around at these walls, little Sparrow. These tapestries tell the story of your forebear, Sabre, one of the mightiest Heroes who ever lived. At a young age, he suffered a devastating loss, from which he never truly recovered. But when the world tried to crush him, he fought back, and grew strong. Strong enough to shape the world. You must do the same._

At this point, Sparrow was standing right in front of the light, unsure of what to do. She reached out and trailed her fingers through it, feeling a current of electricity flow through her.

Recoiling slightly, the girl's eyes widened as Theresa began to speak.

_Step into the light, and learn your true power._

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the brunette stepped forward, and was immediately engulfed by... _energy_.

Opening them, she saw nothing but blue. Blue, blue as Rose's eyes had been. Wait... no, there was a figure standing there... Sabre, she realized.

He began to walk towards her, and Sparrow did the same, smiling slightly.

He said nothing, strangely, but simply extended his hand.

She took it.

Sparrow was filled with energy; she could feel it coursing through her veins, her muscles, her mind. It was exhilarating, but excruciating at the same time.

Crying out, the girl crumpled to the floor, panting heavily.

_Get up, _Theresa urged, gently.

Obeying silently, she stood. Her legs were shaking, as were her arms, yet she did not feel weak at all.

She felt... _powerful_.

It felt good.

When Theresa instructed her to use Will, she snapped out of her reverie.

"I've never done that before, though... you said I couldn't!"

_The simple act of reaching this place has given you Will experience. Cast a spell, simply concentrate on it, and you will be able to continue your journey. Try and hit the flit switch up ahead; it activates a Cullis Gate. It will transport you to Bower Lake._

"I'll try." Sparrow said, furrowing her brow. She closed her eyes, and thought of... Will. She wasn't quite sure what she needed to think of, but...

Then, suddenly, the energy welling up inside her bursted out of her fingers, and landed on the Cullis Gate. The ancient object sprung to life, glowing blue, and emanated a strange sound.

Grinning from ear to ear, Sparrow practically bounced over to the Gate, and waited for further instructions from Theresa.

_Very impressive. Now, use the Cullis Gate, and make your way to Bowerstone. I will meet you there._

Nodding, Sparrow stepped in, and let the now familiar feel of magic overwhelm her once again.


End file.
